Tempted By The Devil (Kings Of Mafia)

Running down an empty stretch of road, shadows darken as they creep toward me.

I open my mouth to scream, but there’s no sound.

Pressure builds around me, and it feels like I’m being chased, but I can’t see anyone.

Intense loneliness engulfs me, and suddenly, I’m wearing a wedding dress.

Black ink slowly spreads up from the seam of the dress, and my body feels heavier and heavier as I try to walk.

The ink reaches my neck, and I gasp for air as I stare up at the black sky.

Unable to open my mouth, my panic and fear become so intense it feels like I’m being strangled.

“Noooo!” I slam into something hard as I startle awake. My breaths are nothing more than gasps.

“I’ve got you,” Angelo’s voice rumbles above my head.

Oh, God. No!

As I realize I slammed into Angelo’s chest, and I feel his arms around me, all the terror and trauma come rushing back.

Maurizio telling me how my corpse will be eaten by worms.

The struggle on the balcony before falling over the railing.

Maurizio’s fingers grasping at my dress.

The sickening thud.

Seeing his body broken over a boulder.

The fear of falling to my death and the struggle to pull myself onto the balcony.

The fear of being stopped as I escaped the villa.

The terror of running away from Angelo.

Darting into traffic to escape Angelo.

Him grabbing hold of me.

“Are you–”

Instinctively, I try to scramble away from him as a cry tears from my throat.

“Baby!”

His hold on me tightens as I frantically push against his chest, but not being able to break free, I resort to begging, “P-please. It w-was an accident. P-please, Angelo.”

He’s going to kill me.

He’s going to kill me.

He’d going to kill me.

The devastating thought has me pushing and straining to escape his tight hold.

Keeping an arm locked around me, he uses his other hand to grip hold of my chin. “Open your eyes, Vittoria. Look at me!”

As I grab hold of his wrist, my eyes pop open, and the second I see his face, I start to sob uncontrollably.

Letting out a growl, he hugs me so tight it hurts.

“Christ, I’m so fucking sorry I left you with them. I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby.”

Still feeling scared, his words start getting through to me, and I begin to cry uncontrollably.

My body slumps in his hold as a sliver of relief drains all my strength from me. “An-ge-lo,” I sob, my shoulders shuddering from the terrible weight I had to carry. “I-I’m s-sorry.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans as if he’s in physical pain. I’m pulled onto his lap, and he peppers my face with kisses. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I know you didn’t kill my uncle, and you ran because you were scared. It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

Angelo keeps pressing kisses everywhere, his arms steel bands of safety around me. The trauma from the past couple of days has me sobbing against his chest.

“Boss?” I hear Big Ricky’s voice.

“Get sugar water!” Angelo snaps.

Time warps around me as the traumatic events keep rattling through my mind.

Suddenly, a glass is pushed against my lips. “Drink, baby.”

I manage to take a few sips before a sob shudders through me. I’m forced to drink more of the sweet water, then the glass disappears, and Angelo rocks me in a comforting way.

“I’m here, mia piccola cerviatta. You’re safe.”

Lost sobs quiver over my lips, and my fear and panic ease enough for me to think clearly.

It’s only then I realize I’m in our bedroom and I’m wearing one of Angelo’s shirts.

He takes hold of my jaw and nudges my head back so he can see my face. When our eyes lock, my mouth begins to tremble.

“Better?” he asks softly. There’s so much worry on his face it can easily be mistaken for rage.

“I’m s-sorry,” I whimper.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, baby.”

His palm brushes over my cheek in such a loving way tears spiral from my eyes again.

Lowering his head, he presses a tender kiss to my trembling lips.

His gaze locks with mine again before he says, “I was so fucking worried about you. How do you feel?”

How do I feel?

Shook to my core, I feel stuck in a pit of despair.

I feel a little lost.

Lifting my arm, I grab hold of his shoulder. I pull myself up, and when I bury my face against his neck, I cling to him with all my strength.

His hand brushes up and down my back, as he just holds me for a while.

“Christ, baby, you’re breaking my heart,” he groans as his arms tighten around me. “Please talk to me.”

Gone is the man who orders me to use my words.

Gone is the ruthless man who terrifies the living crap out of me.

Wrapped up in my husband’s strong arms, a sense of safety settles over me.

“I thought I lost you,” I whimper, my voice hoarse and as vulnerable as I feel. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“Never,” he growls. “Never, mia piccola cerviatta. Mia raggio di sole.”

Hearing him call me his little dear and ray of sunshine helps ease more tension from my body.

He pulls back so he can see my face, and with his fingers wrapping around the side of my neck, he looks at me with so much tenderness it makes me feel super emotional.

His voice is gentle as he says, “I’ll never harm a hair on your body. You’re my everything.”

I grip hold of his wrist as my face crumbles again. My breaths quiver over my lips. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t know what to do.”

“If anything ever happens again, the first thing you do is call me, Vittoria. Never run from me.”

“I panicked,” I say, my voice filled with tears.

“I know, baby.” He lowers his head and kisses me again. “I should’ve left Big Ricky with you. You’ll never be alone again. One of us will always watch over you.”

I nod frantically because I’ll never trust anyone again. With Angelo, Tiny, or Big Ricky, I’ll be safe. They’ll keep people away from me.

My face crumbles again as I cry, “I w-was s-so s-scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Angelo groans, his arms tightening around me again. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Crying in the safety of Angelo’s strong arms, exhaustion floods my body, and no amount of resistance keeps me from falling asleep.

Angelo

The past two days have easily been the longest of my life.

I’m on fucking edge, and every time Vittoria makes a sound and moves, I hold her tighter.

At first, I was struggling to process the deaths of my uncle and aunt, but now I wish they were alive so I could fucking kill them.

Uncontrollable rage keeps flooding my chest, and knowing I can’t get revenge for what they did to my wife is eating away at me.

I haven’t slept since the night before we left for Sicily, and until I’m sure Vittoria is okay, I won’t be able to shut an eye.

Suddenly her body tenses, and she tries to curl into a fetal position. I’m still cradling her against my chest, refusing to lay her down on the bed.

“Shh…I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper, hoping my words will get through to her.

“No,” she mumbles. She’s weak as she slaps my chest, then her fingers grip my shirt. “No.”

Bringing a hand to her face, I brush my palm over her soft skin and hair. “Wake up, baby.”

She startles, and her body jolts in my hold. Her eyes fly open, and seeing the raw terror darkening her irises delivers a brutal blow to my heart.

“Fuck, Vittoria,” I groan desperately. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

I’m used to being in control, but I have no idea how to console her.

Her face transforms into the cute fucking expression she always has when she cries, and it strips my soul bare. Tears spiral over her cheeks, and they obliterate my heart.

My desperation grows, and I rock her again as I pepper her cheeks with kisses.

This time, she doesn’t weep like before and manages to gain control over her emotions.

My eyes drift over her beautiful face as I ask, “Do you feel better?”

She lets out a shuddering breath, and gripping my shirt tighter, she whispers, “I keep seeing it.”

My fingers caress the side of her face. “Seeing what, baby?”

“Everything.” Her eyes glaze over, and her voice sounds fragile as fuck when she whispers, “Maurizio’s body.”

Careful not to push her, I keep my tone gentle as I ask, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Her face crumbles as she looks at me with desperation trembling in her eyes. “You’ll get angry. You’ll hate me.”

I shake my head hard. “No, I won’t.” Taking a deep breath, I correct myself. “I won’t get angry at you, but I am fucking pissed off because you were put through this fucking hell.”

Her eyebrows draw together, and she hesitates before she asks, “What did Gloria tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. I want to hear your side of the story.”

I keep caressing the side of her face, hoping it will help set her at ease so she’ll open up to me.

Vittoria swallows hard and shifts on my lap so she can sit up a bit straighter. She rests her head against my shoulder and lets out a tired sigh.

“It all happened so fast,” she whimpers. “I went to the bedroom with Gloria, and while I looked at the view from the balcony, she left me alone. I didn’t think anything of it. The next second, Maurizio came in and threw an envelope on the bed. He said there was five thousand euros in it because it’s all I was worth.”

My teeth grind from the effort it’s taking not to lose my shit. I wrap my hand around the side of her head and press my mouth to her curls.

Jesus Fucking Christ. Five thousand euros. The degradation she must’ve felt.

With my mouth against her hair, I growl, “You’re worth more than all the money in the world. You’re fucking priceless, Vittoria.”

She moves her hand from my chest and grips my wrist tightly. “He told me to leave you so you could marry another woman, and if I didn’t, he’d bury me in the backyard.”

The mother fucker!

Knowing how cruel my uncle could be, I can only imagine how traumatizing it must’ve been for Vittoria.

I clench my jaw as I listen to her stammer, “H-he said he’d m-make s-s-sure you’d say y-your vows on t-t-the spot where m-my corpse is b-being eaten b-by w-worms.”

Fuck.

I struggle to drag in a breath as white-hot rage floods me.

Fuck.

I crush Vittoria against my chest and bury my face in her hair.

Fuck.

Breathe!

I gasp, and it has Vittoria wrapping her arms around my neck. She shifts again as she straddles my lap, and her fingers weave through my hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

I shake my head as I try to regain control over the rage, thirsting for destruction and revenge. Only blood will quench its thirst.

Pulling back, I frame her face and lock eyes with her. “What happened after that?”

Her hands grip my wrists again, and her eyebrows draw together.

Looking at my innocent little deer, I’m unable to understand how anyone could hurt her.

“I told him you’d never believe I just left you,” she whispers. “He shouted at me, and when I tried to get to my phone so I could call you, he yanked me backward. We stumbled against the railing…”

Her face tenses with the horror she’s reliving.

“Then…” She gasps and tightens her hold on my wrists. “Then we…” Her breaths come faster. “I feel sick.” Her body convulses, and darting to my feet, I pick her up bridal style and rush into the bathroom.

Unable to get to the toilet in time, Vittori tries to push away from me as she starts to heave. Bile trickles over her fucking arm and hits the floor, and I quickly set her on her feet and help her to bend over the sink.

Once again, my fucking heart breaks as my wife’s body convulses with dry heaves because of the fucking nightmare she’s been through.

I open the cold water and pour some over the back of her neck and arm. As her body jerks violently, the sounds coming from her destroy me.

Suddenly, she loses all strength, and I manage to catch her around the waist before she can drop to the floor.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

I move her into the shower and open the faucets. Leaning her body against mine, I grip hold of the shirt and get it off of her.

She feels hot to the touch, and I keep the water cool as I hold her beneath the spray.

After a few seconds, she whispers, “Feels good.”

When her strength returns and she’s able to stand by herself, I make the water a bit warmer.

Still dressed in my suit, I grab a loofah and body wash.

“Your clothes are getting wet,” she says.

“I don’t care,” I mutter as I begin to wash her body while making sure to keep my touch gentle. “You’re all that matters.”

My eyes lock with hers. “You’re my entire fucking life, Vittoria.” My voice grows hoarse as I admit, “I would die if I lost you.”